Tombstone
by RollingRubys
Summary: On a hot summer afternoon, some Weasleys discover a delicate truth.


Big drops of sweat started forming on my forehead and at the roots of my hair, but I barely noticed. We are running with an anxiety that seemed to border on desperation. My eyes weren't shut, but they couldn't see more than blurry green. All I knew is that there was a moment when my steps stopped echoing and the floor became soft and mushy, so I guessed we were on the castle's grounds.

It was the first hot day of the year and we were celebrating the end of the final exams with a match of Explosive Snaps when Molly rushed into the common room, all blushed and breathless, and told us I must come quickly.

There was no wind, but with all the running the hot air hit my face like little whips, and I could feel my cheeks and ears already turned red. I could hear the others breathing heavily because of the oppressing heat of mid-June. I tore at the neck of my shirt to try and get some fresher air, thanking Merlin I wasn't wearing my tunic. Times like this I wish I was a girl, so I could run with a skirt instead of trousers and cool down with the wind running between my legs… I wonder what _she_ looks like running in a short skirt…

"Are you tired already? Hurry up, you dumb-head!"

I looked up and saw we were heading towards the Lake. It immediately occurred to me that perhaps Molly had seen the Giant Octopus, or a mermaid, or found some curious jelly-bobby thing that looked like it could be a part of a jelly-bobby curious creature. But Molly is not so fond of that kind of things unless it is for studying purposes. And why did _I _must see it?

We reached the shore and started bordering it. She slowed her pace and the others followed as we approached the field full of white tombs at the bottom of the small hill where a greater one laid. We'd never been to the Hogwarts Graveyard before.

Molly went straight to the opposite side of the graveyard and started reading the headings, obviously looking for a name. She stopped about five tombs away from the edge.

"Here," she said and extended her hand to me, beckoning to come closer. As I did so, she pointed at the headstone with her other hand; I followed her finger.

It was neither the one with the most, nor the one with the least flowers, but they certainly seemed the freshest, like they had just been arranged. But I couldn't care less once I'd read the shadowed name carved on the white marble.

"I just saw Granny leaving here and when I came to see what she'd been doing, I found this," Molly explained.

It was usual, especially on weekends, to see people come to the graveyard to leave flowers or sit in front of the tombs. Uncle Ron always says that it is queer to see so many adults at Hogwarts and Aunt Hermione almost always agrees; but I guess we'll never know, as we're so used to it. Still, it was evident that none of us knew that Granny came here.

We all know about the war and the Battle of Hogwarts. Of course, some of us know more than the others. I know James, Rose and Louis know more than I do, and that Roxie and I know more than Al, Hugo, Lily and Lucy. The older ones know the whole story, naturally, 'cause something happened to Ted's parents then. I don't know what happened exactly, but I remember it took us all a while to understand that Teddy wasn't actually Uncle Harry's son, but he was still our cousin.

Anyway, it doesn't matter how well you know the story, it doesn't matter how present it is in your life, it doesn't matter how many times you saw your father disappear every single one of his birthdays and accidentally heard him cry right after he's blown the candles; seeing your own name written on a tombstone is not something that happens every day and you can't help but feel more than a little dizzy, even if you're absolutely positive you're alive.

I realized I hadn't moved for quite a long time when I turned to see why the others had suddenly stopped talking, and I noticed they were staring at me fixedly, like they expected me to faint any time soon.

"What?!" I spat with a tinge of nerve.

"Are you OK?" asked Al, slowly.

I shrugged. "I guess…" I said, and turned back to look at the tomb again. It was only then that I noticed what was written beneath the name:

Fred Weasley

"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good.

Mischief Managed"


End file.
